


triple threat

by sadie18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Hogwarts, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Soulmates, Soulmates AU, Teen Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, marcus oliver and percy is the main relationship, mentioned only - Freeform, the other ships are background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadie18/pseuds/sadie18
Summary: 16 years old, you get your soulmate mark. somewhere on your body.well, percy woke up with TWO.this does not fare well with his nerves.





	triple threat

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr https://dracospvtter.tumblr.com/ let's chat :)

_i. Soulmates and Life Magic_

_When a wizard/witch has become of the age 16 years, life magic will assign a soulmate for them based on their personal characteristics, physical traits, mindset and thought processing, and compatibility. Gender and sexuality, religion and belief are not important when life magic is in play. Some examples of life magic's course overriding sexuality and personal belief are in the case of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, suspected soulmates._

_Your own "signature mark" will be on your heart, while your soulmate's marks will most likely be on your hands or in your forearm areas. The mark on your heart will match your the mark on your soulmate's hand._

_In the extremely rare case where there are more than one soulmate assigned to a wizard/witch, they are extremely lucky, and should appreciate the situation accordingly. The most famous case of this are of the Hogwarts founders themselves. Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff were soulmates, and with such powerful magic bound together, were able to found one of the most prominent wizarding schools in Europe._

* * *

Percy Weasley relied on knowledge. He thrived on it. The power of knowledge exhilarated him in ways that some people would never understand. Oliver never understood, anyways. He got his adrenaline rush on the Quidditch pitch, battling against Marcus Flint.

If there was ever a day Percy hated knowledge, just wished he was dumber than the thickest rock, it was his sixteenth birthday.

"Happy Birthday!" Somebody singsonged outside his curtain. _Urgh_. It was a rather cheery voice for the morning. "16 is a big one! Thank god mine's over. Here, take these to cover up your marks." He felt something get tossed onto his bed. Probably bandages.

Percy jolted up in his bed. Sixteen. Soulmarks. Wrists. 

He looked at his right wrist. Huh. An intricate shimmering gold broomstick, with leaves of some sort growing on it. So his soulmate played Quidditch? Liked plants? Probably a Hufflepuff, then. 

Percy's jaw dropped. He glanced over his left wrist, and  _there was a mark on his left wrist._ And his right wrist! Both wrists!

His left wrist had an detailed dark red ball with some sort of sharp stone or knife stuck in it.

He had two soulmates. Two  _athlete_ soulmates. Double fucking  _ugh._  

The rarity of the situation was insane! Percy had not known anybody with two soulmates excluding the story he knew of the Hogwarts founders. This was a scientific miracle, another study in life magic definitely needed to be recorded-

Percy ripped off his sleeping shirt and looked at the left side of his chest. Sure enough, under his left collarbone, was a quill in a lighter shade of red, laying in an open book. There were some letters written in the miniature book, but Percy didn't have his glasses on and he had just woken up.

He needed to visit the library, and soon.

"Perce, you alright?"

Fuck, Oliver. 

"Yeah, yeah, coming." He said, hastily wrapping his bandages, but making sure they were on tight and not easily ripped off. As he hopped out of bed, Oliver Wood was across from him, his own hands wrapped, grinning. Most people at Hogwarts didn't want people to see their soulmarks, in case someone figured it out, or they didn't like them, etc. It was rather stupid, really, because your soulmate was, in simpler terms, _made for you._ Students covered both hands even though only one hand would have the marks. Except in the case of Percy Weasley.

"Happy Birthday!" He repeated cheerily, and tossed a parcel at him, getting up. "Hurry up, we're going to be late for breakfast."

It was square and lumpily wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper, but Percy's heart warmed at the thought of Oliver trying to wrap up a present frustratedly, all his patience worn out on Quidditch.

He ripped it open delicately. A new set of quills and his favourite blue ink. Percy smiled. Oliver had listened through his ten minute rant about running out of ink too quickly and how his quills were never sharp and his essays ended up looking blotchy and ugly. 

It would do him well when he visited the library, that was for sure.

* * *

 

_The distinct shape and history of the olive tree make it easy to identify and distinguish from other trees in the area. It's magical properties inc-_

An olive branch. A broomstick made of an olive branch. Olive wood.

Oliver Wood.

_His soulmate was his fucking best friend. A bloke._

_ONE OF THEM. JUST ONE. OF TWO._

Percy was going to rip his hair out and jump into the Great Lake and let the squid have at him. Maybe it would pity him and swallow him whole so it would be done and dusted. None of that soulmates bollocks. Just him and the slimy inside of the squid.

 _'Oliver Wood.'_ Percy thought bitterly,  _'he's a fantastic choice for a soulmate. Really. Kind, rather good looking, I suppose. A bit obsessed with Quidditch, but you could say that he's ambitious and driven for success, which is a good trait. He's not rock dumb, though I wouldn't mind if my soulmate was. I have a smarts for the both of us. Or the three of us. I bet Oliver hasn't even figured it out yet. Mine isn't very specific. It's just a quill and a book. He could just think it's some Ravenclaw. Oh dear, how am I going to tell him? I wonder who the third person is. I wonder if I'm the one with two and they both only have one? Or are we all made for each other? Which means we each have two? Knowing they play Quidditch narrows it down. The fact that it's a quaffle narrows it down to keepers and chasers. They're the only people who get in contact with the quaffle, right?_

And then Percy was back to something familiar. Logical thinking. Not rambling thoughts. Books, facts. Not wayward emotions and loose ideas. 

If these two people were made for him, it couldn't be too bad, could it?

* * *

 

Oh, how wrong Percy Weasley was. And he wasn't used to being wrong, oh no sir.

Because now the fact that  _Oliver flipping Wood_ was to be his was plaguing his thoughts. It was all he thought of. He couldn't even hold a conversation about it. Thankfully, Oliver didn't badger him about his marks too much. 

"Have any idea who it might be?" He asked Percy, and his face went as red as his hair.

"No, haven't had a chance to really have a good look." He choked out. Oh no, that was rather obvious, wasn't it? "Especially since you jostled me awake this morning." He tried again, attempting a haughty look. That was better.

Oliver laughed and Percy's heart thumped against his prefect badge. From the adrenaline of telling a little fib or how Oliver was smiling and his hair was sticking all ways and that this boy, his best friend, was created magically for  _him,_ Percy didn't know. 

"Well, it's my best mate's birthday, and I wanted to celebrate it!" He swung an arm over Percy's shoulders and the latter squeaked a little. He was _not_ being subtle about this.

 _'Percy Weasley.'_ He reprimanded himself as he relaxed a little, though the literal weight of Oliver's arm on his shoulders was burning into him. ' _He probably hasn't even figured it out yet. You're the brains. He's too driven with quidditch to attempt giving it much thought. Your mark is so unspecific. You're fine.'_

That was his mantra through the rest of the day, through charms, transfiguration, ancient runes, and back in the library during his free hour. He had another mark to figure out. 

Quaffle. Chasers and keepers. He already had one keeper, so that narrowed it down by one more.

Percy snorted.  _'Hah. A keeper. That he is.'_ He thought wryly.

There was some sort of sharp stone stuck in the quaffle, Percy remembered. He wasn't willing to take off his bandages in the library, even though it was currently empty, minus Madam Pince. If someone were to come in and see his marks, it would be news around the school within the hour. That's what happened to Warrington, when his bandages came off in DADA by accident after some rather tricky wand movement, and it was around the school like wildfire. He and Montague were quite happy together now, Percy had heard, but it seemed to be a rather angsty time of the year for him when it happened. 

So no, he would have to go from memory, and hope  _Wizarding Stones and Rocks; Magical Geology Volume II_ would do the trick and have a similar picture. 

* * *

 

_'Flint is a very prominent stone used in magic, useful in starting fire when in the presence of wood.'_

Percy had read this line a total of 31 times. 

Accompanying this passage of text was a drawing a sharpened, grey stone, looking near identical to the one embedded in the quaffle blazed onto his left wrist. This was especially easy to figure out. Life magic was clever, really. Flint. Olive Wood.

Marcus Flint. Oliver Wood.

Marcus Flint, a brutal Slytherin chaser who's only words to Percy had been "shove off, Weasel," when Percy in a fit of rudeness had told him to stick his broomstick elsewhere after mouthing off Oliver after losing. 

Marcus Flint, who cared about nothing except winning and would stop at no means to be the best. If that meant getting Pucey to hex Katie in an abandoned corridor, so be it.

Marcus Flint, soulmate number two of one Percy Weasley. 

Percy felt faint. There was no way Marcus had figured it out if Oliver hadn't. No way. Marcus was thicker than rock, or so his grades said. 

' _Now, that's no way to be talking about the so called love of your life, is it, Percy?'_ He faintly heard his mother reprimanding him in his head.

This had been a rollercoaster of a birthday. A rollercoaster!

"Hey Perce."

Percy jumped at the voice, snapping his book shut and whirling around. Was he relieved or full of dread at meeting Oliver's warm eyes, he wasn't sure.

"Whatcha reading?" He teased, plopping himself into the empty seat next to him. Percy hastily stuck the book in his bag, blushing.

"Nothing, just boring stuff. Muggle geology." He said quickly, not wanting too look him in the eye again. He would know! He wasn't ready yet.

"Any luck on finding your soulmate?" Oliver asked lightly, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. 

Percy went even redder, if that was even possible. 

"Not really." He lied. "Been a bit busy with ancient runes."

Maybe he was imagining it, but Percy thought that he saw Oliver look a little disappointed.

But he could've been a bit paranoid, so he dismissed it.

"Percy Weasley, always studying, not even having enough time to find his partner for life?" Oliver teased, eyes brightening up.

Percy just mumbled out a yes. The boy in front of him, and had been in front of him the entire time, smiling, his Quidditch sweater clinging tightly to his form. His forever. 

How could he have missed something so good, right in front of him?

Percy didn't have the answer to that.

* * *

 

Percy woke up the next day in a cranky mood. This soulmates business was stupid. Too stressful. Not good, he had N.E.W.T.s next year, and couldn't afford to have distractions from his studying.

Oliver had held a morning Quidditch practice, so he was trudging down to breakfast by himself.

When he sat himself down next to Hermione, one his little brother's best friends. He muttered a good morning and glared at his pumpkin juice. 

Bollocks. Soulmates and life magic was absolute bollocks. What Percy would do to be a muggle.

He glanced up, and right across the room from him, sat at the Slytherin table, was Marcus Flint. He was tall and muscular, with messy jet black hair and a sharp stature. His appearance absolutely screamed ' _mess with me and you will end up in the hospital wing with every bone in your body cracked in half.'_

Percy hadn't realised he'd been staring until Marcus looked away from his conversation with Warrington and caught Percy's eye.  _Fuck._ Percy saw Marcus raise and eyebrow and glare, then go back to his conversation.

Oh dear. Percy was on the verge of madness. 

And then he rushed out of the hall.

Percy managed not to bump into either of them for the rest of the day, until Transfiguration. That's exactly the moment it went to shit.

"Weasley, partner up with Flint, please." McGonagall called out.

He mentally screamed in fear, anticipation and absolute dread. Merlin above must have some qualms against Percy Weasley for his day to go so sour so quickly.

As McGonagall spoke, all he could think about was the boy next to him. Marcus had at least four inches on Percy, his shoulders broad and almost touching Percy's. Percy had bumped their elbows accidentally with a muttered "sorry" and tried to ignore the tingling feeling in his skin for the rest of class. He glared at his wrapped hands. Stupid marks, stupid magic, stupid muggles for not having to go through this. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a rough nudge from next to him, and Percy snapped his head up to meet Marcus Flint's eyes. They were dark grey and cold. 

"McGonagall's called you on three times but you've just been glaring at nothingness so she called someone else." He murmured. Percy felt the heat of his blush creeping up his neck. 

"Oh. Th-thanks for telling me." He stammered out. 

Percy managed to focus during the rest of the class, dutifully taking notes, but he couldn't help glancing at Marcus's wrapped hands. They were done tightly, immaculately. He wondered how much time the other boy had put into making sure they were carefully done up, out of fear of showing the world his marks.

Did he know that one of the marks on his hand matched the one over his heart?

Percy had to know. This teen angst-romance-complicated-bollocks was eating him alive.

* * *

 ' _Percy, meet me in the locker rooms after training? -Olly'_

Percy lay on his bed, staring at the note. Oliver's messy chicken scratch handwriting embalmed itself into Percy's memory. What could he need? This was not a good situation for Percy. He knew Oliver's training ended in 3 minutes and 20.. now 19 seconds. Once it ended, Percy was going to wait another couple minutes, so Oliver's other teammates had time to clear off. And then he would make his way down to the pitch, and hope nobody could see his heart beating erratically. 

Yes, that sounded like a plan to Percy. 

1 minute left.

Percy could feel himself tingling everywhere, his nerves frazzled from this one little note. Logically, Percy knew that it was probably over something little, maybe just to accompany him to dinner or something. Maybe to ask for his notes if he wasn't able to see him at dinner. 

But the marks on his hands burned with thoughts of something else, snatches of passion and intertwined magic and...  _other things_ that made Percy go red all over. 

Percy stood himself up and breathed through it. He breathed as he walked down to the locker room and breathed as he pushed open the door.

Sure, enough, Oliver was shirtless and just about to throw a sweater on. Just Percy's luck that he had sucked in a breath too hard and ended up choking. Oliver's body was toned with years of quidditch and training and it most definitely showed. What also showed was the mark on his chest. A familiar one, identical to the one on Percy's right hand.

"Percy!" Oliver exclaimed embarrassedly, hastily putting on his sweater, as Percy got himself together. "Uh. Hi. Sorry."

Percy then frowned. They had shared a dorm for years. They had seen all of each other, though it meant a little more now. To Percy anyways. There was no need for Oliver to react embarrassed.

"What's up?" Percy asked, sitting down on a bench across from Oliver. It was almost awkward. Percy didn't like that one bit, his best friend of years feeling uncomfortable, mirroring his own thoughts.

"Uh." Was all Oliver could say. 

Percy rolled his eyes. "Very eloquent, Wood." He teased. Oliver mockingly glared. Here. This was familiar ground. This Percy was used to. But he knew it was about to change. Oliver knew. That was the only reason they were here.

Oliver sobered up his face. "Yeah, uh. I needed to, er, show you something."

And he pulled off the bandages on his right hand. Sure enough, the light red lines of the quill in the book. Percy remembered there being initials in the book but wasn't able to see them clearly till they were on Oliver's calloused hand.

 _P.W._ was inked in delicate, loopy handwriting in the book. Percy was mortified, flinching. Oliver had known all this time. Months. 

"Don't be mad!" Oliver blurted quickly and grabbed his arm, as if he was scared of him going. "Please don't. I didn't want you to panic, especially since I got mine first. And you kept saying you didn't know who they were even though you're an absolutely terrible liar, and I knew you weren't ready so I didn't want to pester you, but it's been eating at me for absolutely ages, ever since I knew, but I was scared that you would... I don't know, have different marks or something." Oliver ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I know it's stupid, but I was paranoid, especially since there are-"

"-Two." Percy finished for him. "We have two."

"Yeah." Oliver said lamely. They looked at each other uncomfortably. "I'm sorry Perce. I just didn't know."

Percy wasn't upset though. Far from it.

"Stop being daft, Oliver." He said fiercely. Oliver's mouth gaped. "I'm not upset. We've been friends all these years, I know you would never purposefully hurt me. We're bound, you and I, and we will be for life. Clear?"

The other boy just nodded dumbly.

"Now, d'ya think Flint knows that we're all meant to be and all that cowshit or will we have to tell him and hope he doesn't swing?" Percy asked lightly. Oliver buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"My nemesis. I despise him. He's a beast, he is." He mumbled through his hands. 

Percy did something that surprised the both of him by cupping Oliver's chin and raising it so he could look at him. 

"Chin up, Olly, there's a fine line between love and hate." He patted him lightly on the chin and then went to grab his arm. "Come on now, at least you know we'll never force you into Madam Puddifoot's for tea at Hogsmeade."

Oliver chuckled and allowed himself to be dragged away.

* * *

 

Oliver and Percy were tentative at first, awkwardly talking in a way that wasn't familiar. But it got better, of course, and they were back to being animated best friends, just like before, except Percy's heart fluttered whenever Oliver swung an arm over his shoulders and chatted intensely about quidditch right into his ear, and Oliver would stare at the way Percy chewed on the top of his quill and mussed up his hair as he stressfully took notes in the library, ink smudge present on his cheek.

They had planned out how they were going to confront Marcus and forcefully make him come with them to Hogsmeade. 

It would start in the class they were all in together. Potions. Percy had noticed that Marcus always left last, taking care in putting away the equipment. They would then corner him and wing it from there. The last bit was Oliver's idea, because he had to run off to quidditch practice because of Percy's "bloody brothers not listening to shit I say!" 

Potions passed by slower then treacle and by the time Snape told them to pack up, Percy had chewed his quill to the point of no return. He glanced over to Oliver and nodded, waiting patiently for everyone to trickle out till it was just the three of them.

"Flint." Percy said casually, his heart pounding with adrenaline. 

"This is about the soulmates business, isn't it?" Marcus said without looking up from his bag. Percy gaped dumbly and saw Oliver mirroring his own look.

"Er. Yeah. How long have you known?" Percy stuttered. "About each of us."

This was when he looked up, expressionlessly looking over the two Gryffindors. 

"You, Weasley, since the beginning. I don't know anybody else with initals P.W. that studies like you do." He said. "And Wood, couple weeks ago. Care of Magical Creatures, Professor was talking about trees and the olive tree came up and looked the same as the broomstick on my left hand, thank you very much."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Oliver blurted. 

He just shrugged. "Knew you'd come to me when you were ready. Didn't think you lot had thought about being bent until you'd figured each other out. Besides, we had a match, I couldn't confront you then. I'm thick, but if the universe and beings above think you two are the two for me, who am I to fight that?"

This pulled a grin onto Oliver's face, a face that Percy was so familiar with but made him feel things every single time. 

"So what do we do now?" Percy asked. The three of them frowned, thinking but not very hard.

"I'm going to do something." Oliver said slowly. "Don't deck me, Flint."

And he put a hand on the Slytherin boy's waist and pressed his lips against his, slowly. Percy gaped, his skin matching the hue of his hair. These two boys kissing, mouths moving slowly and unsurely, were beautiful. And they were his. 

When they broke apart, Wood blushed. "Uh. That was good." Marcus just nodded faintly, licking his lips.

"Uh, Perce." Oliver turned to him.  _Oh._

Oliver put his hand on the nape of his neck, their faces so close that Oliver could count Percy's freckles and Percy could see the green flecks in Oliver's brown eyes. 

"Ok?" He murmured. Percy nodded. And then Oliver moved to close the space in between them and they were kissing. Percy supposed it wasn't so different from a girl, except Oliver moved with the same strength as him and his jaw was sharper and he could feel a little bit of stubble.

It felt so right, as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle.

When they split, Percy was slightly disappointed that it was over. He was a little dizzy.That's what he would say when people asked why he had moved to Marcus before Marcus could. The puzzle wasn't quite finished yet. There was one more piece. 

"Same thing, Flint." Percy whispered, putting a hand on Marcus' chest and another on his waist.

Marcus was rougher, lip pulling and teeth clacking and just had Percy moving for more. It went by too quickly in his opinion. 

Then it was three of them again. Three boys looking at each other. Their futures were entwined in ways they were too young to understand but could feel.

"So uh- Hogsmeade?" Oliver supplied awkwardly. Marcus grinned and Percy instantly felt at ease. At home. That was the magic in the air, literally, he supposed.

"Asking me on a date, Wood?" Marcus teased, and unwrapping his hands of the bandages. Percy saw his mark on his hand. His. They belonged to each other.

"Yeah." He grinned. "What type of boyfriend would I be to not take out the two people I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with?"

_Boyfriend._

Percy quite liked that.

"Yeah, you're a lucky one, landing the two of us." Percy punched Oliver lightly, and in an act of Gryffindor bravery, grabbed Marcus' hand. It was scarred and calloused from years on a broom, but it fit.

He blushed when Marcus just squeezed lightly in response. 

* * *

 

"That was most  _certainly_ a foul, Marcus." Oliver complained. 

"Puddlemere's full of pansies, including yourself, _Wood_ , if you lot thought that was a foul." Marcus sniffed haughtily. 

"The Magpies are full of dirty cheaters,  _Flint!_ "

The three of them were sitting on the floor of their living room eating leftovers Molly had brought over during the small house party they held the night before off the coffee table. They had invited all the Weasleys and their partners, Hermione with Pansy, Harry with Draco, Ron with Blaise, George with Angelina, Fred and Lee, Ginny and Luna. The abundance of former Slytherins, quidditch players, and Weasleys made for a comfortable party. Harry had happily kept a hand on the small of Draco's back the entire night, and it reminded Percy so much of his own Slytherin.

"It wasn't a foul." Percy declared, brandishing his fork threateningly at the both of them. Marcus smiled smugly at Oliver and said, "this is why I love you, Perce." Oliver looked at Percy, mouthing the word  _traitor._

"Ah ah ah," he tutted. "I wasn't finished." He inwardly grinned as Marcus' face as it fell. "Your beater that hit the Puddlemere chaser in the shin 'by accident' was definitely not an accident and should have had penalty. That was a foul."

Oliver cheered with an "a-HA!" while Marcus groaned. 

"I can't help what my teammates do!" Marcus whined. "I'm not a dirty cheater." He stuck out his bottom lip childishly at Oliver, who just cackled in his face. 

"Oh hush, the both of you." Percy said, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

Later on, they would all get into their bed (a very large one, for three very large men), and hold each other tightly. Oliver would be in the middle that night, and Percy would whisper an "I love you" to the both of them. Marcus would reach over Oliver to rest a hand lightly on his waist and Oliver would press a kiss to Percy's jaw. They would fall asleep comfortably and deeply, madly in love.

It was almost magical.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr https://dracospvtter.tumblr.com/ let's chat :)


End file.
